Trying To Leave Orlando

After lunch I attempted an Internet connection at various locations around the airport and finally located wi-fi outside Mickey D’s. It turned out to be even slower than my old dial up, but I was able to conduct a minimal amount of business.

New impression: Older guy sat down on the bench next to me, played with his phone and then weird looking female companion showed up. He walked away, and she said something fairly loud. I jumped and said, “Excuse me?” She said, “I was doing something that is ‘so called talking to myself.’ “ Then she turned her back and proceeded to lather herself with some heavy-duty vile smelling lotion.


The best part of my layover was the spa that offers chair massages, among other services. I had a deep tissue 15-min. massage that felt like it lasted 30. The masseur hit the spots on my left arm and below my right shoulder blade, along with places in my lower back, which I never mentioned. I felt rejuvenated. Not sure if the video will take.

As I was leaving the Spa some of the tension returned because I heard an announcement that all persons on Flight blah-blah-blah should report to the gate, “So we can make it out of here before the thunderstorms.” The booms of thunder and dramatic lightning flashes (southern style) followed not long afterward so I don’t know if they made it. There was a long delay in arriving flights, and then a whole bunch arrived at once.

SW Snaufs 2 through infinity: Email sent at 9:20 a.m. saying Flight 410 would depart at 3:50 p.m. Email sent at 10:41 a.m. saying flight would depart at 6:35 p.m. These two showed up while I was eating lunch at 2 p.m. A bit later I was on the phone with Larry as crowds were eyeing the TV to watch the World Cup, and I received an email, sent at 4:10 that the flight would depart at 6:55 p.m.

I left the spot to let some eager soccer fan take my place. The board showed the flight leaving at 9:40 p.m., but the “customer service” rep told me that the flight would leave at 7:55 p.m. so I walked some more and on a whim went to the gate at 6:25 to find the plane had already started boarding. There was never an announcement of course. They couldn’t say, “Flight 410, which was supposed to leave at 1:20, p.m. is scheduled to depart at about 7 p.m.” Just to be safe, I waited to  call Larry until I was actually sitting on the plane.

A positive: I wrote 1,700-plus words in an hour, and except for the smell of fried carrion, some tacky perfume, and screaming children, spending a day in provincial airport really was all that bad.

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